jerrisdiction

[jerrisdiction]

Looking back

I tried to think big this year, wanting to craft something big out of the remaining of me. Rather than setting myself onto “the path of success”, it put extra stress on me instead. I forgot that “thinking big” comes hand in hand with “starting small”. To live life fully and genuinely, even in the smallest of things. That is what shapes our perceptions, and inspiration for further creativity. It’s quite impossible to create something out of nothing. Without purpose or meaning.

People wise, I think I shut myself in again after ******* and ****** were out of my life. How many setbacks like this do I need to experience? I think I spend too much time grieving rather than cherishing those who who’ve stayed with me.

At the end of the year, I started wanting to meet new people even more. But there are so many people out there - I realised a few things:

Not all are friends whom you would have heart-to-heart talks with. Not all are good texters. Some are just there when you are bored, or to give you advice. Some are those whom you would enjoy their company.

It takes time for any friendship to forge and strengthen. It also takes time to open up, and trust someone. It’s about timing, when do you think it’s the right time to start sharing more personal thoughts with someone.

I’m really glad that my partner and existing friends are open to hearing me out right from the start. I think the right people will make us feel right, so long as we also put in the effort.

I’m quite glad that I still filtered strictly, choosing who I want to remain in my life. Opening up to people is one thing, but choosing who mean the most to me is another. “Don’t expect your 3s to behave like 1s” - that’s how important prioritising is. And it ought to be rather mutual.

[jerrisdiction]

Finding my voice

These days I fumbled with the thought of censoring my words, or even going back to re-edit my blog posts. But that itself goes against the spirit of jotting down genuine, original thoughts that I may have.

A lot of writing, or just creating anything would involve finding that voice, that message which we are trying to convey. That was probably how blogs arose - there were themes that each attempts to focus on, like a website. School life, beauty, food, travel - loads of them out there. I suppose people who don’t have a specific focus may still do well - some of them are influencers, and some readers read because it’s them.

For me, though, there are so many things which I want to write about. Never had I imagined this, until people actually told me that I write fairly well. Seriously? My lack of vocabulary always makes me give up in exasperation though. And I constantly swung between “I’m not original enough, I don’t feel like it’s my writing” and “my style is too bizarre or childish for anyone to appreciate, I should switch to a more acceptable, mature way of writing”. Not just writing, but also singing, editing photos - and lately with editing videos. Lately I struggle with wanting to delete my videos, simply because they seem so similar to the trending aesthetic vlogs. Those with cute fonts, borders, lo-fi/ calm/ cute background music, warm tones. See, I’ve watched enough of these vlogs to know what is popular. And sure more people are adopting similar styles from one another; sometimes we see comments like “oh your style reminds of haegreendal, it’s so calm and soothing” and they’d reply “thank you I’m honoured to hear that, she’s amazing!”. And that sort.

But thankfully I took some time to think about all these, and came to wonder - perhaps this is all about our need to share our lives with the world outside. It is pretty toxic at times. I remember those days I just wanted to tweet something funny or post a nice cover, to get loads of retweets and likes. It’s probably a phase which all of us would go through. Until we realise that fine line between sharing our lives simply because it’s worth sharing, and sharing our lives to gain that validation. As someone who grew up on validation and craved validation, it was no wonder I fell prey to this pretty easily. And that was partly why I kept deleting my accounts, moving from one platform to another - hoping to “make it big” somewhere online because I could no longer beg for that validation in real life.

That “online” persona of mine viewed my real-life persona as someone pathetic, because I was getting increasingly low-profile.

Only for me to gradually realise, that was actually what I really wanted deep down. 

The question then, could be - is there anything worthy to write about then?

It comes back to the matter of doing things intrinsically. My friends told me to sing because I enjoy it, not because there is an audience; to write because I need to express and clear my thoughts, not because it is an art form or something whimsical that people need to appreciate. Hell, who appreciates rants? It reminds me of those among us, who create private accounts to rant or ramble. It sure felt a little comforting that your closer friends could view the posts and give some words of moral support. But sometimes when people admit that it feeds their ego a little (how, I cannot figure), that’s likely when it gets a little... Warped. The need for validation, once again.

Or perhaps, a fine balance has to lie between positioning oneself, and neglecting one’s uniqueness in order to fit in. Since a long time ago, we were taught to be prepared for that classic question - for that elevator speech. Tell them something unique about yourself, but also something acceptable. A blog description is more likely to say “Hi I’m xxx, I’m an avid traveller and camping enthusiast” than “Hi I blog about random things under the Sun”.

So yeah, it kind of confused me that people think I write well - when I frustrate over what to write about in the first place. It’s like how my teachers think my essays are mere fluff with no solid content. As someone in her early twenties, I can only admit that I have been through way, way less 'real’ experiences than those my age. And I used to shame myself for lacking in those - no hall life, no clubbing, no chilling at bars, no CCAs to keep me exhausted. I don’t read that much either. So yes, I considered myself an empty vessel who was constantly “hurting” from all the negativity.

But gradually, I came to reminisce of certain experiences which others may not have been through. Has the average Singaporean youth been up Singapore Quarry via a rocky mountain biking trail on foot? Got shocked by a pervert trying to take pictures of her legs? Travelled to Tuas to recce a stock count location? Wore matching shirts on her very first date with someone who later becomes her partner? Bought a ukulele in secret and had to hide it for 2 months before getting caught? Everyone has different experiences.

I feel like a tired old lady these days, but these are experiences that will keep me looking forward to more. So that when I truly become an old lady, there are stories that I would have in store to tell. Recounting these without trying to fear the negatives, without trying to glorify the positives. And maybe, that’s what I wish to embrace in my writing.

[jerrisdiction]

Chopstick spaghetti

11 May 2018

A few days before my internship started, I knew I had to revisit the area where I first worked. Even though I mostly ate at Golden Shoe Hawker Centre, Far East Square was like a posh little village that stood out. So hearing about such a pop-up restaurant in that area got me bubbling with excitement, for this "amateur foodie" sort of adventure.

Back in university, my summer vacation always went by so fast. And I'd looked back at it everytime with some extent of regret.

It was only after starting work though, that I realised - having such time to explore alone is so rare, such a privilege to treasure and to be proud of.

Such small adventures, which are difficult to relive these days.

I wasn't the type to go after trends when it comes to food. I wasn't even the type to be adventurous about food. Yet Chopstick Spaghetti had this appealing concept, which showed how fascinating fusion food is.

Maybe it's because Mum often played around with ingredients when cooking spaghetti for me. We often think of carbonara, aglio olio etc almost like a standalone dish, each with their own techniques. But we are no rich family. Interestingly, even though we settled for the commonplace ingredients - we discover simple flavours that equally impress.

I hesitated at the store front, as it seemed a little underwhelming. Barely any customers, clean but simple interior design that did not blend in with the other trendy bars along the street. But the reviews had to mean something!

I finally decided to saunter in, looking like I just came across this restaurant (not from the Internet).

My order was ready for collection in a while. Indeed, there was nothing fancy about Chopstick Spaghetti - it’s just what it is. A pop-up eatery hoping to draw recognition with affordable yet premium taste.

It was my first time having salmon mentaiko, and this was not as strong-flavoured or creamy as I had expected. The salmon was chunky rather than blending in with other ingredients. Quite glad that the bowl and chopsticks weren’t made of plastic, and we could drop it in the bin after finishing.

It’s kind of weird how I remembered little adventures like these - it has been more than 2 years. But they were rare. Nowadays, I find myself dining at the same old shopping malls, not really venturing to anywhere. Hopefully this would change.

[jerrisdiction]

Deserted Tuas on Christmas Day

25 December 2019

My ideal kind of Christmas Day includes receiving presents and letters in bed, having a leisurely breakfast and a slow morning walk for fresh air.

But as an auditor who's constantly anxious about losing her way, I decided there was no better time to visit my stock-take location on 30 December.

Many might find it ridiculous that a 22 year old has to 'recce' her upcoming client locations with her Dad. But this is something Dad and I have always indulged in - looking for places we usually don't quite venture into. I think that's why I chose audit in the first place. And I secretly rejoice when clients ask "Was it difficult to get here?" - as I can answer "It's alright", feeling a little smug.

But Tuas itself is tricky, as my Dad had warned. Even though he'd been there multiple times, the taxi drivers sometimes have trouble finding their way. And we never know when, or where a wild animal is out and about.

Tuas Link station was almost empty on a public holiday like this. We got a glimpse of Raffles Marina Country Club from the concourse level, and daydreamed a little on how it'd be like to have a getaway there. 

We then took bus 248, which took us past Pioneer Road, turning into Tuas Avenue 20. By the time the bus started doing turns in Tuas Crescent, I was clutching my phone tightly and all alert. "Okay so after this, we're gonna take note of when to alight".

Of course, we couldn't figure it out just based on the bus app. So I switched to Google Maps - noticing how long Tuas South Avenue 5 seems. But in reality, it's extremely long and endless. I lost track of the smaller avenues we'd passed by, and was getting uneasy on whether we'd overshot.

Thankfully the bus slowed down when approaching Glaxosmithkline. As we alighted, I found myself rambling on how impossible it is to get out of Tuas South Avenue 5 on foot. Let alone Tuas itself. 

Then came the tricky part of our journey. From Google Maps, Tuas View Square has this concave layout (凹 shaped). Almost like a fortress with inner and outer lanes. I'd thought of cutting corners (path in purple), as there was a smaller lane - which eventually led to nowhere. Also, the factories had high walls and fencing. Nothing like a HDB estate where you could just cut through the corners. Oh well, the full route it was (path in blue). 

Not to mention, we were walking on the side of the road. I even twisted my ankle slightly. The pavements were littered with wine bottles, takeaway Styrofoam boxes, plastic bags and fallen leaves.

Honestly I tried not to think of the workers here negatively. But it seemed that Tuas was this unmanned part of Singapore, where people could litter as much as they want. Or perhaps it's just the lack of road cleaners here. Reasonable, given that Tuas is simply so inconvenient and vast.

But this area seemed like an aftermath of a Christmas celebration. A private, undisturbed party of their own?

Turning into our destination, we even saw these workers sitting and lying on the grass patches by the pavements. We soon realised that there were living quarters here, which occupied the back of the factory premises. I mean, there isn't really a problem with sitting on grass. But in other areas, we wouldn't do that.

Having sighted my location for next week, we made our way back to the main road. Another long walk to the bus stop in the heat. 

Just as we reached the bus stop, we saw a private bus stopping there, probably to fetch some workers to the nearest train stations.

I was about to sit down and wait for the public bus 182, when Dad started talking to the driver on the private bus. When he asked for the destinations and fare, I tried to pull him away like, "what are you doing??"

Yet Dad boarded the bus, tossing a few coins into the container beside the driver - leaving me wide-eyed. Was it really okay to take the bus meant for these workers? What if the driver took us to somewhere unsafe?

Of course I couldn't leave Dad alone like this, so I decided to board the bus with him. Wow, this has got to be the most bizarre way to hitch a ride.

Many more workers got on along the way. There were probably 20 Indians / Bangladeshis, and a couple of Chinese nationals including the driver himself. And yeah, two Singaporeans. The workers sent us weird glances, probably puzzled why we're there. But thankfully it was a safe ride out of Tuas, all the way to Boon Lay.

To conclude this tiring and bizarre trip, we settled for some steamed dishes in the food court for lunch. And wondered how Mum would react when we told her later about our venture. 

[jerrisdiction]

Maybe I should talk to someone

"I feel like... Maybe... I'm too mindful of what people think of me," I attempted to confess admist the urge to cry.

"That's true of you."

[[MORE]]

I always got angry at calmness, perhaps because it formed a stark contrast with how volatile my dark emotions presented themselves. Yet these days I find something profound in how Mum appears undisturbed by my problems. It almost bordered on mockery to me, that she's known what's wrong but I'd never bothered to hear what she had to advise.

Despite being less than halfway through Maybe You Should Talk to Someone, I found myself crying through some of the chapters. Some parts hit hard not because of how profoundly "relatable" they were made out to be, but how raw they are as a true story, how people might not always heed these words of advice. How we as humans, priding ourselves on logic and analysis, can fall prey to such traps even if the answer sounded 'simple'. Though life itself isn't simple.

But this book is indeed challenging me on my thoughts. I tell everyone how much I dislike the job, hate accounting and detest any form of confrontation. The problem seemed to lie in the job itself, and in times when I was more sober, I'd tried to picture the problem as "excessively victimising myself".

I was definitely not thinking of how I nurtured the monster into its size today, when I realised I didn't wanna be contactable to anyone. I thought it was just a symptom of how done I feel with the job.

And I certainly did not notice that nearly all my concerns so far, were not with the technical competencies of the position, but in dealing with people. My unproductive behaviour showed in a few ways including:

- stalking others' Skype/ Teams status to calculate when I can go offline to be 'fair'

- calculating when's the best time to reply a manager so that I don't seem rude nor overly responsible

- rereading email drafts over and over again, wondering how the recipient would feel reading my email. And the amount of time I take to send an email simply paralyses me

- constantly wondering what a superior will think upon reading every single line I wrote in my work or in an email. Results in multiple edits that may not be productive

- jumping from one task to another because I felt uneasy neglecting the other task, and different superiors oversee these tasks. Ends up getting neither done, and panicking that both sides would haunt me

- panicking when someone asks me about the status / progress, hence scrambling to send a chaser or follow up email to client immediately, only for them to ask why I did that. It makes me feel like I was overreacting, they were simply just asking how things were going, not trying to perceive me as bad

- just... Don't feel like getting up to work - the fear of emails or messages is too much

- when a problem isn't solved, mulling over it despite knowing that worrying won't solve the problem. Ends up worrying more because superiors wouldn't reply when I try to ask how to solve it, wondering whether they don't have a solution or was I not important enough. Fearing that when the problem becomes more urgent for them to prioritise, they'd blame me for not taking action earlier

- celebrating when I realise there's no new email or message for the past hour

As the most junior employee in the hierarchy, there's indeed nothing colossal about the complexity of my work. But this fear and anxiety within me is getting out of proportion. Such that each Excel file, each email, each message, each software I use - they all seem scary. Not because of the work itself, but from who might review, comment, criticise, question it etc.

And again, I imagine superiors telling me "this isn't that difficult, why do you need so many hours" "you just need to do xxx". And it turns into a whirlwind of self reproach.

I imagine people to be monsters, perhaps to avoid the realisation that my imagination (and constant addiction to imagine) of how others think of me was the true colossal monster. Suddenly, this monster doesn't seem all that impossible to fight. It's still difficult, but...

Are people scary?

I tried to rationalise that everyone is trying to stay afloat, not necessarily mean or nasty. Everyone has deadlines to meet, and everyone feels lost with this circuit breaker. But I get guilty because no matter how much I do, it doesn't seem to help my clients or superiors keep themselves afloat anyway.

I also tried to tell myself that I am loved. But it also disturbed me, that people who potentially think I'm incompetent, are also very much loved by their loved ones. It makes me wonder if I'm worthy of love at all.

Perhaps my thoughts about people would never yield a correct answer, simply because humans are too complex - I'm finding answers in the wrong place. It only leads me back to the constant toxic mind guessing, draining my mental energy.

I hope I find my own answer by the time I get to the end of the book. The answer to peace.

[jerrisdiction]

Paralysis

These days I struggle with showing any reaction or opinion to situations that I probably should have. But I just felt paralysed, my mind goes blank not from panic but almost like a computer abruptly shutting down.

And maybe that's why I beat myself up even more for not extending help to people who need it. Because there's no way to turn back time. And I went from wondering if I'm a bad person, to concluding that perhaps I'm just a coward. Maybe a lot of people are, too.

Initially it's not that I didn't want to help, I just couldn't get myself to step forward. To the stranger who offered to share her umbrella with me, most likely it wasn't a great deal. So it was disappointing that I didn't when I saw someone else caught in the same situation. Actually I've no idea why I'm still so guilty about it till now, it's been nearly a month.

Yet these days I find myself speechless even when my friends need help. I sort of figured that I'm probably trying to protect myself. Is feeling triggered a valid excuse? I kept recalling the absurdity before. How a few kind words had her leech onto me, like I was her only hope. I think the whole issue was that I knew I would feel responsible if she took her life. That someone died because of me, because of something I didn't do.

Then again, I feel so bad because I know my friends wouldn't do that. And they most likely have more friends to turn to than come to me anyway. It's ironic that I want to feel useful, but I'm even more scared of landing myself in unnecessary turmoil, toxic codependent friendships. And I thought that after so long, I'd be able to stand up and offer warmth to others. But turns out that wow, I still can't handle suicide or the thought of it.

I used to think that being mature means being able to voice my opinions calmly or to help someone without getting too emotionally involved. But nowadays I find myself unable to generate anything to say, even when the situation demands it. I think my thoughts don't matter anyway. And I feel myself vanishing amidst the noise, letting things drift apart. I want to say I'm sorry, I'm here for you, how can I help you - yet pathetically unable to fuel these words. 

[jerrisdiction]

Rounding up

Cutting off toxic people, toxic lifestyles is probably the best thing I've done for myself this year. There are far more amazing instances I've tried stepping out of my comfort zone for - e.g playing the uke, dating, getting a camera. And lots of courage I had to gather in the face of sudden departures, and emergencies including being hospitalised myself. A lot has induced and worsened my anxiety, but I think it'd have been worse if I hadn't said goodbye to most of the toxicity and sought strength from myself. I filtered and chose really strictly who I want to remain in my life, and it really worked.

[[MORE]]

Having disabled my personal account for months, I decided to go back and take a brief look just now. And somehow, it reminded me of why I wanted to get off in the first place. Same places, same events, same old captions. But it's mainly that these people no longer matter on any level of personal connection. I tend to mull over this distance and envy whatever 'fun' others are having . So until I learn to reconnect well with humans while being comfortable with myself, guess it's a good choice to stay away. Humans are creatures of habit anyway, and truthfully I don't feel like I'm missing out - which is great! 

After years of isolating myself quite a lot, I'm glad that I managed to open up to genuine people. But it's also a lot of luck that they've come into my life, not giving up on me and actually wanting to know me, to care for my wellbeing and growth. Like wow... I often feel so bad for clinging on to everyone, because they have many people but I only have them. It's still of course my responsibility to expand my own social circle and feel comfortable. But at least now, with encouragement from those who give me space and warmth (yes, both at the same time wow), I think I'm slowly more ready to make meaningful connections, in genuine and healthy ways. This urge to reconnect with society is growing within me day by day. It's probably laughable in the eyes of others, but slowly I think I can make it.

That said, there's still so much work to do to patch up and catch up with existing ones. I started the year horribly with my family being toxic. I'm still ending the year that way, but I've also been much closer with Dad. It shows that it's not wrong to take sides sometimes. It also shows that there is good among the bad, especially when you can't change these flaws about others, but can't bear to cut them off completely either.

I want to work on accepting rejection this upcoming year. The need to understand that though I only have limited social opportunities, the rest don't. And that it's not the end of the world if I'm not prioritised. I think that also goes hand in hand with accepting differences. That it's okay for everyone, including others to be different from my ideals and expectations. And hopefully one day, I'd stop crying out of fear of loneliness, but live in the present at ease. 

[jerrisdiction]

Polar bears

I feel like I won't ever fit in.

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When others are complaining that the air conditioning isn't cold enough, I'm busy shivering.

When others are looking forward to more gastronomic experiences, I'm still all about the same 'boring' food like eggs, tofu and vegetables.

When others are thinking about getting a car, I just wish public transport would be convenient enough one day to sustain all of us, which would hopefully help the environment even a bit.

When others are getting excited about upcoming events, I can only focus on how much each participation would cost me.

When others upgrade their phones nearly every year with each latest release, I prefer to save up for things that help me see the world better like I never had the chance to before, like travelling and some good camera gear.

When others manage to fill their weekends frequently, I'm trying to get used to the taste of rejection.

When others have large families with relatives they are reasonably close with, I can only wish for less squabbles, less insults and more warmth within mine.

When others are busy dreaming of their happy endings, I'm being told not to ever expect one, because I simply don't have that kind of luck others have.

I want to feel content though. I want to stop feeling greedy, and to stop comparing myself to others to the extent that I forget to lead my own life. I want to prevent myself from being sucked into this blackhole of peer pressure - that you're supposed to have a family filled with bliss, to pursue a certain career path, to be happily married by a certain age. I want to gain strength, to have my mind powerful enough to be at peace with, not reject the norm. To be at ease with what life has in store for me. To stop complaining about work.

And I used to be so hung about equity, or maybe I still am. My mentality was in a way like "but you have xxx in your life, so would it hurt to give me some attention / affection / warmth which I'm lacking?" In the end, it's futile. People care about who they want to care about. But well... Though I'm probably being all alone in this world, with no one who could relate to my thoughts, at least I could try to find a balance again tomorrow. Maybe one day, I could finally feel like I belong - whether to my own soul or with others.

For hope is the only thing that overcomes fear. Just take a deep breath, thank those who are still with you, make a wish that you'll trust and accept them one day, and focus on the next step forward.

[jerrisdiction]

Tightrope

I've been warned since some time ago

Somewhat afraid it'll turn into an "I told you so"

Still smiling so hard even if I could plunge anytime soon

Since the first time I chose to trust the stars, the sun and the moon

That I'm fated to be here once in a lifetime, it's crazy but no way to look back

It's terrifying, the end seemed near but only further with every step

Breathe your hardest, try not to think of how much it can lack

Spread your wings, don't be too fixated on closing the gap

Keep walking with your feet this weary, make the tears count twice

Keep burning with your soul this fiery, make the smile last once

And for all

©journarrate

[jerrisdiction]

The point of it all

These days I tend to wonder: what's the point of anything at all?

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What's the point of asking people out when they're not keen to catch up or spend any time together? 

What's the point of preparing gifts when they're likely just cast aside, or even given to someone else? 

What's the point of taking leave when there's no one to spend it with? 

What's the point of getting to know more people when deep down they don't actually care?

What's the point of joining new groups or teams when people tend to be exclusive with their status quo and don't really welcome newjoiners? 

What's the point of taking the initiative to contact old friends when the conversation will only end again after a few exchanges? 

What's the point of caring about how I look when it'll be seen as mediocre all the same anyway? 

What's the point of putting in effort when it probably won't work out or last anyway? 

I envy the carefree ones who simply do what their instincts tell them to. I really do. That way less thoughts would swirl about in my head, maybe less nightmares and more quality sleep. Perhaps thinking of the days ahead indeed does me no good...

On a slightly more positive note, these days I've been thinking about my new year resolution - to reduce my fear of rejection and gradually accept change. I think that's the single thing which destroys my strength. Despite my willpower trying to force all that acceptance and endurance, it's not working out. But if many people have done it, perhaps so can I. There has to be a way. 

And I hope one day, I'll find my calling and pursue it like there's no tomorrow. 

[jerrisdiction]

The road ahead

This year has been filled with shock, at how vulnerable life can be, how unprepared we are, and how helplessness can ruin whatever we have built (and rebuilt). I'd been satisfied with being a newbie, even contented with status quo with insignificant presence. Just so that when it gets tough, at least I can still slip away with no one noticing. But this has changed in just a month or two.

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Dad reassured me that I'd be able to handle what comes my way. Well, I've always admired those with that inner peace, the belief that humans are designed to take on whatever challenges we face. Fair enough, how many times had young me wanted to give up, only to realise that hey, I actually survived it?

It reminds of that time my kayak capsized - in fact way too fast even for panic to strike. I resurfaced within seconds, coughing the water out and figuring if I'm facing the shore, or further out at sea. Then I realised the waves had carried me ashore, as my feet could gradually feel the solid beneath. The instructor, knowing my fear of water, appeared behind me holding on to the kayak body and asked if I was okay. And honestly, other than shivering from the cold, I was alright. I survived this - the realisation set in, distracting me from the rain hitting my face.

How many more times would I still be willing to go out to sea? Or rather, how many more times do I need to get used to being out at sea?

I'd thought freedom was the very thing I needed so desperately. But nowadays, I find myself coming back most of the time, wanting to settle down and be with those whom I love. It scares me to think I won't be able to handle losing anyone now. That's something I wish everyone could understand, that just because you have many people around you, doesn't mean they're less indispensable - because you never know that you're someone whom they hold close to, who's like the last source of hope for them.

"And I know, and I know, and I know

That you got everything

But I got nothing here without you"

**** ***, I know those wise words you've told me - if you form connections with 100 people, losing one or two won't be a great deal. Yet for some reason, I can't do it. It's always down to that argument whether you want quality or quantity out of your human relationships. Some can juggle both well, I don't know how. I'd always thought that quantity was exactly what I've been hunting for, but at the end of the day, no. I want people who won't give up on me like how I won't give up on them. I crave meaning and depth without hesitation, even if the risk of loss one day might cripple me.

I wish you're here to give some impactful advice to wake me up again. But like any connection that isn't meant to last, our encounter too, was meant to fade. Though I think you'd be proud of me, how far I've come since the last time we talked. I'd always remember that one quote you'd introduced to me: fortune favours the bold. I think I'll need to recite this line a lot throughout this balancing act of priorities and career progression.

[jerrisdiction]

Secrets

I've always loved reading blogs. Each entry resembles a ticket to access secrets about someone. In fact, nowadays I think it's nearly impossible to wear one's heart on his sleeve. Every time I dig deeper, it only reveals more sides of people, previously unknown to me.

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Is the image I'm portraying to others, then, something acceptable? Out of habit, I tend to put myself down. Yet it doesn't seem... Wrong, as much as some think I like garnering sympathy. It's merely a slipshod way to lower expectations of me. A form of avoidance. Some drink to forget. Others seemingly behave with apathy. As for me, I also love sleep as a short escapade, even though it's something I'm constantly deprived of. People could shake their heads in disapproval of such behaviours, and it takes courage to ignore them - and I like to think that's what resonates with most of us.

We're actually more common than we think we are; that's what makes those "secrets" so relatable - even though if circumstances changed and if you weren't that close to someone, then you would be the one judging. And thus to me, bonding over shame and despair is one of the avenues where the utmost trust develops, something I cherish above all. Because one simply doesn't get to hear these secrets everyday.

[jerrisdiction]

Cinderella

Once I never thought I would chance Upon Prince Charming, being with you was like a slow dance A chain that cannot be broken, filled with playful affection Time for me to let loose and relish in this mutual attraction Once I imagined a love that could endure Upon me, your endearing gaze made me feel secure A maze that developed so slow yet so fast Time would tell if we could last Once I believed nothing stays permanent Upon commencement, it'll all turn transparent A series of burning questions that remained unclear Time might be frozen with a single decision, but pain continued to sear Once I looked forward to building a love so pure and lovely Upon treating our wounds, we kissed each other's scars tenderly A craving for each other that proves to be unstoppable Time would witness if our passion is sustainable 

<Retold 2019> ©journarrate

[jerrisdiction]

SeoulSearching: Chapter 02

My original plan was to start off Day 2 with renting a hanbok. After all, the idea of being a 'princess' for 2 hours twirling around in a palace sounded really appealing.

Mum suggested taking a taxi, since she heard that taxi fares here are generally inexpensive. So we got on one at the taxi stand outside Seoul Station - pretty convenient from our apartment.

I was a little perplexed when the driver did not respond to me asking "Is it possible to go to Gyeongbokgung?" in Korean. After all, we're somewhat used to drivers in Singapore rejecting rides, or stating they're only heading to certain areas. The silence was awkward, and with every minute uneasiness tried taking over me. What if he's not a legitimate driver, just someone up to no good? What if he drove us to the wrong place (after all, not really confident with my pronunciation)?

Peering down at my phone, I decided to turn on my location and monitor which road we were on. For some reason Kakao Map did work that day (thankfully). And within 15min we were already reaching! Dad was right when he said that Seoul is actually not that huge of a place, there're just too many subway stations LOL.

It was obvious we were about to reach as we started passing several statues, including King Sejong. Never knew these statues were placed in the middle of the road. The driver dropped us off just opposite the main gate, and from there we commenced our trip of the day.

It was crowded outside Gwanghwamun itself, and only then we realised that the first Royal Guards Changing Ceremony had just begun, hence attracting a line of onlookers.

After a while we saw a tour guide leading his group beyond the gate into the palace, and thus we followed. I didn't really expect the palace grounds to be sandy though. Lowkey relieved that I wasn't wearing a hanbok, for it would have been tougher to walk around.

After buying the tickets and a guidebook, I led the parents into the main palace.

Geungjeong-jeon was really crowded - not surprising since it is one of the main places where the King carried out important duties.

Mum said this alley was where some historical dramas were filmed, and hence a popular spot to take pictures? Honestly it looked like just another alley that may even be found in the other palaces.

Gyeonghoe-ru Pavilion was really scenic and beautiful, but in fact no one gets in there - all of us were taking pictures of it from across the waters.

We were considering whether to continue venturing into other areas in the Palace, but it was nearing lunchtime so I felt it was best to head to the samgyetang restaurant earlier.

To our surprise, there was no queue outside unlike what we’ve always seen.

To be frank, I sort of had the impression that samgyetang would be similar to the black chicken soup we always have in Singapore. It tasted really ‘clean’, but it’s not something I fancy.

The free-flow kimchi was what helped me get through the meal though! Can't emphasise how much I love radish kimchi. It just helps me fill myself with more rice that I might not have eaten in the first place.

By the time we left, a long queue was starting to form at about half past noon. So thankful that we had lunch early.

I guess fatigue was starting to take over me as we started heading to Namdaemun Market. Not to mention the lack of escalators in the subway stations (oh god I'm so unfit) - just climbing up to the ground floor got me gasping to breathe. With just a glance down the crowded street I knew it would be suffocating there. Hence I opted out and let Mum shop at Namdaemun on her own.

Crossing the street halfway to the central pedestrian pavement, Dad and I settled down on a bench. The flowers were beautiful, but failed to distract me entirely from the pain. He asked me how far we were from our apartment; I pointed at the huge road sign in front - which indicated that Seoul Station was just a left turn away. That didn't surprise me since Hoehyeon Station where we were was just one stop away from Seoul Station.

Leaving me to rest for a bit, Dad walked down the pavement lined with flowers and disappeared from my sight. I'd thought that was a little uncaring of him, but that short walk eventually proved to be useful. After Mum was done with some minor shopping at Namdaemun, Dad brought us down the pavement, which led us onto Seoullo 7017, which essentially is a sky park that could lead us back to Seoul Station. And the view was really refreshing! There was a mini flea market as well, though the clothes sold were more expensive.

The rest of the day went by with me taking a short nap, before we headed out to Lotte Mart (yes, again) for dinner - this time, at another stall which sold dumpling noodles. I must say the dumplings here are huge, in fact really filling I couldn't finish my bowl of noodles. Not to mention we ordered an extra platter of steamed and fried dumplings, unaware of the large serving size here. Taste wise, nothing really impressive, but as a convenient option it would do.

[jerrisdiction]

SeoulSearching: Chapter 01

Long story short, the perfectionist in me considered this trip a complete failure. But I'll accept that with gratitude- after all, there's a first time for everything.

One of these "first times" was using automated check-in, which did not work for us anyway, since there were other procedures we were to complete in person. Nonetheless, the staff were all relaxed and helpful.

And yes, more surprisingly, it was the first time we used McDonald's automated ordering kiosks to order light supper, for the counters were closed that night.

I've had better spicy nuggets than these.

Another 'first': being on a late night flight, which we all regretted. Even Mum, who's usually a heavy sleeper, complained of being sleep deprived. As for me, it goes without saying that I disembarked in the morning half-disoriented.

I did look forward to witnessing the sunrise on the plane though. It wasn't crisp clear, and I couldn't take a shot of the crimson horizon from my seat. But a beautiful 5am view, it was.

In-flight meals were served shortly before 7am, but I suppose most of us were just tired and indifferent towards the food by then. The three of us opted for stir fried noodles with fried fish fillet, which surprised me a little as I thought Dad would prefer having porridge. Then again, Korean style porridge is likely very different from what we're used to.

｡･:*:･ﾟ

Upon arrival, Dad was amused that the immigration there, like Taiwan, used index fingerprints instead of thumbprints. I couldn't care less, so long the process was smooth. It did take slightly shorter than clearing the Taiwanese customs.

The next step was to purchase our T-money cards - also the first time I spoke Korean to a local there. As expected, it failed quite miserably. My mind already went blank when the GS25 staff told us that they did not sell normal 2,500won T-money cards. Thank goodness another staff came in and intercepted the awkwardness with some English.

Along the way I learnt that it's okay to speak a little bit of simple English. In fact, much better than struggling to be understood in Korean, only in vain. Fast forward to our arrival at Hongdae, where we deposited our luggage with Safex, their staff was pretty relaxed with conversing in English. (I think it's me who needs to relax LOL.)

Hongdae was a place with inexplicably good vibes that afternoon, even though most recommend going in the evening. We settled at a random restaurant, and it turned out to be our favourite meal in the entire trip. Each of us got this huge portion of bibimbap at just 6,500won.

At this point I probably figured out the distinction between traditional bibimbap and the more 'modern' ones like this. Traditional vegetable toppings typically include mushrooms, carrots, spinach, soybean sprouts, and cucumbers. But I don't recall much of those in this bowl- instead, alfafa sprouts, chopped yellow radish and cabbage were among the highlights. Making a wild guess right here that these modern variations are more widely seen in areas like Hongdae to appeal to youths and tourists. Not saying that traditional bibimbap tastes worse, but it had become a tad boring for our family overtime.

We later ventured down the smaller streets of Hongdae, passing by several stores and cafés- each with their own character. I recall being in awe with one of the many accessory stores; its rustic industrial design was well complemented with its scent, probably from a diffuser. Almost felt like stepping into an unfamiliar realm, even though earrings were its highlight.

We also visited Market A, but somehow none of us had a thing for their pieces. They just felt like elegant vibes I couldn't carry. Mum also commented that their pieces are mostly in 'plain' colours. Yes, precisely that- there isn't really a colour the locals can't manage, given their fair skin. In subsequent days, I also observed that they mostly wore such neutral, muted colours to work, especially black and cream.

Meanwhile, Dad had been sitting outside the store, coughing non-stop still. He was obviously displeased with all the walking, and the lack of sleep was taking a toll on him. Surprisingly though, he suggested to find a café nearby to recharge (he was never the type to visit cafés). So we gradually tried to find our way out.

The parents were doubtful when I started going underneath one of the bridges, but wow it turned out to be a really nice spot with shade. 책거리, or what I'd interpret as "Book Street" is such an apt name for a path leading students from the subway station exits towards the university. The afternoon breeze blowing under the bridge also came refreshing after a long walk in the sun. And witnessing some elderly folks reading together in the shade simply completed the picture.

Hongdae is, indeed, definitely more than its nightclubs, restaurants and fashion trends.

Thanks stranger for making this picture even more perfect. Really love the lines and warm vibes in this shot.

That street also had me noticing all the gorgeous flowers Seoul had to offer. I don't have good shots of them up close, for they were better admired in abundance.

Lots of white daisies in this city... I guess the more you avoid something, the more often you see them.

｡･:*:･ﾟ

This café (located in a mall near Exit 4) caught our attention so after some mindless shopping there, we picked a few items for afternoon coffee.

Their coffee (forgot which one Mum ordered for us) wasn't really something I'd fancy. It was our first time trying an beurre - seemingly just bread with cream and red bean filling but, of course, more sophisticated.

I picked up a chocolate financier as well, for I hadn't had one in years. Dad did not think much of it, but I never expected a financier to be the highlight anyway. But it's decently rich (damn, is this a pun HAHA) for me.

｡･:*:･ﾟ

Little did we know that the real challenge was to come after we collected our luggage and headed to Seoul Station. Mum suggested visiting Lotte Mart before checking into our apartment, but it was a really long walk from the airport line. Hell, if the walk within Dhoby Ghaut station was already a chore, I bet this was way, way worse especially with us lugging our baggage around.

By this time, Dad was having the runs and displaying more discomfort, so he decided to rest outside Lotte Mart, giving us 30 minutes to shop. I'd thought this was a great place with variety, for I'd always liked shopping in supermarkets but... The crowd, the tourists, even the promoters enthusiastically drawing customers in with Mandarin were quite a turn-off for me. It really just felt like a place for tourists to sweep all those goodies away last minute before they head home. And seeing Mum almost turn into a child in a candy store got me thinking, this is a bad sign.

When we finally got out of Lotte Mart, somehow Kakao Map failed us and could not point us in a direction that seemed right. Some bickering and struggling later, we decided to lug all that baggage underground once again back to the airport line to find the other station exit, since the subway was our only hope with more visible signs.

And after what seemed like endless walking, we reached our apartment in sheer exhaustion.

｡･:*:･ﾟ

By the time we recharged ourselves enough to go out for dinner, it was yet another challenge to decide what to eat. There were several (probably family owned) restaurants near the estate, but after passing by the lots of them, we headed back to Lotte Mart - this time via a shorter route we'd found.

Lotte Mart isn't so bad after all, for there were a few stalls that sold really affordable and filling meals. We ordered one set of steamed dumplings and 2 sets of kimbap for 13,000won, and though that wasn't way too filling, at least we were able to finish it all - Dad didn't like the tuna kimbap while I didn't like the tonkatsu kimbap so we swapped LOL. Somehow the dumplings were the highlight for me, not sure if it was the filling or the soy sauce.

On our way back, we hopped into a minimart and bought some bread for breakfast the next day (though later on I ate none of it). Oh, and out of curiosity Mum and I tried a spicy vegetable kebab thingy, it kind of set my tongue on fire but felt super shiok (much better than Spicy McNuggets, huh).

Back at the apartment, the duo started generating more complaints of our humble home for the next 4 days. Again, I was the one to blame (who else?), but that didn't bother me much for we were all scrambling to catch up on sleep that night.

[jerrisdiction]

Respect

I've always wondered to what extent people think respect is to be earned. By "earned" I'm excluding the anount of respect that supposedly comes with age, experience etc, i.e. something 'acquired' due to existence or what was done in the past.

With that I'd like to think that the word "respect" is so loosely used. Do people necessarily admire or acknowledge one's existence deep down?

Also honestly I feel that age in particular does not entitle one to treat others, especially the less fortunate, in a less 'respectful' manner. I've written about this 'dilemma' before - it's difficult to change others' beliefs, even if they're technically inappropriate e.g. racism, looking down on other occupations. So why does such behaviour bother me this much? I'm no longer indignant about it, just bitterly amused, probably. There really is not much of a point in assigning labels, e.g. "you're of this race or nationality? You're in this occupation? Oh, you must be stupid, you suck at studying, there's something wrong with you. There's no need for me to hold back from treating you less than I would with a normal educated person of an ethnicity that I think is of a certain standard." That sort of judgment, which translates to that sort of prejudicial behaviour. Seriously, if the world were to be more... understanding and tolerant of others, it'll be such a better place.

[jerrisdiction]

With all things 'feminine'

Feeling the need to reconsider the way I've been living my life - my intuition that I'd been screwing everything up might have been somewhat right after all.

People who've known me for a longer time are aware that I ain't the typical girly girl - this was something I wanted to add in a previous post but anyways dedicating a separate piece here to this issue.

Today I got mocked at by Mum for "blindly following trends other YouTubers recommend" and "wanting to be pretty" to have painted my nails. And "being a bimbo" for gushing about the new Better Lips Talk colours. It got me questioning, is it so wrong to want to be pretty? Hang on, since when did I ever want to be "pretty"?

I know I make lots of self deprecating comments, about being ugly, fat and etc. I also act like I don't care about the "girly stuff". But I don't know, after all I'm still a girl right? All along I'd been acting like gender doesn't matter; I still think society should shift away from having expectations in terms of gender stereotypes, how each of us is supposed to act.

It's not that I constantly acted like a "tomboy" either. I just ain't ladylike or demure. So I can see why my parents aren't used to me wearing lip tints, buying cosmetics, painting my nails. Even though I'm so far behind as compared to other girls my age or even way younger. That's why I'm slowly exploring this realm- while being aware that I'll never be like a "normal girl", e.g. there's no way I can or will wear contact lenses, no matter what. I'm not likely the type to do a full makeup either, e.g eyeshadows, contours, eyebrows. I'm also still considering whether to get ear piercings, but seeing how my family isn't quite accepting these "changes" too well, I might put this thought off for some time.

Makes me wonder - have I really "changed"? Or am I just that easily swayed by seeing other girls' appearances? Or blindly following what others do? Looking at my (rather badly) painted nails now, which have garnered such subtle vibes of disapproval, I actually feel a little more confident. Same goes with wearing my lip tint - I just love that colour. It's clear how much colours have always meant to me, be it in my photo edits or at times exploration of art. And especially lately I'm just so in love with red and orange tones. Maybe I'm indeed a little too smitten lately with introducing some colour to my own appearance. Maybe I do need to do some soul searching - wanting to feel confident and pretty in this manner is completely going against my own miserly stingy self. There're lots of other things that can boost confidence. Maybe it's just me who feels like all my interests/ hobbies cost so much. Where's that karaoke fix or painting session I'd promised myself I'd indulge in after finals? Now that finals have finally ended, I end up finding myself lingering around these beauty retail stores lately, trying to understand what my fellow female counterparts have been going on about, and somehow it's been making me a little frustrated and moody. But now I kind of get it - I can dabble in it occasionally, and it's okay to experiment, but these "girly things" are indeed not for me. I'm never gonna be the typical girl, and it's okay. Gonna remove the polish after I'm back from Taiwan, and be proud to be myself :)